The Scourge of Muirwood (37 page)

* * *

The traveling supplies had been gathered. Sacks and blankets, sturdy boots and thick cloaks adorned everyone, even the little children. Pasqua had tears in her eyes as she tried to determine which of the five ladles she would bring to Pry-Ree and then beyond. Lia bit her lip and hugged Pasqua tenderly, helping her to choose her favorite.

The door of the kitchen opened and Kieran strode in, spraying beads of water. He reminded her of Jon Hunter with his unshaven face and unruly hair. He wore a gladius at his side. “It is the third day. The storm has broken, just as you said it would.” He gazed at Lia and then reached for Marciana’s hand. Their fingers entangled. That had been a surprise to Lia upon hearing of the news. The two had been married by irrevocare sigil by the Aldermaston days before the fall of Muirwood. Marciana had passed the maston test. Sowe clung to Edmon’s arm and stared at Lia with worried eyes.

Kieran glanced at those assembled. “We must go.”

Marciana looked hard at Lia. “I wish you could come with us.” Her voice caught. “But since you must stay, as Maderos bid you, you may hear what became of my brother. I still hold him in my thoughts. I have not given up hope.”

Lia experienced the deep ache of pain that happened whenever she thought of Colvin. “It was not my choice to stay behind. But it is certainly my duty. There may be others seeking to escape the Blight when they realize what form it has taken. I will send them to Tintern, after you. Unless they are infected – I will not send on any who may bring the sickness among you.”

Sowe came and gave Lia a hug. “Will you be safe here? All alone?”

Lia smiled and wiped her eyes. “If that wind did not kill me, I doubt loneliness will. This kitchen has always been my home. It brings me comfort knowing that it still stands. Please take good care of my sister,” she said to Edmon, giving him a hug farewell. “Make her laugh. Every day.”

A crooked smile contorted his mouth. “I will. If we by chance have any daughters, we will name the first after you. That way, we can be assured of a mischievous child!”

Lia laughed through her tears, hugging them both again. It was painful, saying goodbye. But the roles had changed, for it was her family that was leaving her behind. Pasqua was next and then Prestwich, who was holding one of Siler’s children by the hand. A kiss to each, a firm hug.

Reome lingered in the back, uncertain about what to do. She had transformed since they had last seen each other. The haugtiness was gone. The swell of the babe was visible, but still just barely. Lia approached her and took her hands.

“I was always a little afraid of you,” Lia said softly.

“Were you?” Reome asked, looking baffled. “I am sorry, Lia. I am sorry for all of the dreadful things I said and did to you. Teasing you and mocking you.” Her eyes squinted thoughtfully. “I suffered greatly from my guilt and shame until I spoke with the Aldermaston. We really spoke, Lia, as I am sure you often did with him. He was so gentle and kind to me. He helped me see that punishing myself accomplished nothing. He taught me to be grateful for what I have instead of what I lost or never had.” There were tears in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. “If I have a boy, I will name him Gideon.” She bit her lip. “I will never forget what you did for me, Lia Hunter. May the Medium comfort you and keep you. I believe in it now as I have never believed anything in my life. You gave me the first spark of it.” She squeezed Lia’s hands and then gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Bless you, sister.”

Lia’s heart shuddered with emotion and she clenched Reome tightly, amazed at her surging feelings. The two had never shared a hug in their entire lives together at Muirwood. It truly was the end of all things.

As they left the kitchen into the chilled morning air, Marciana and Kieran halted while the rest gathered outside.

“Do you think Pen-Ilyn will still be by the shore?” Marciana asked. “With his boat to ferry us across to Pry-Ree?”

Lia pursed her lips. “I believe…someone will be waiting for you. The Medium responds to our needs. I cannot see who, but I sense it. Someone will take you to the ships.”

Marciana swallowed. “Do you think…that Colvin…? Do you have any sense, Lia?”

She frowned. “I cannot see his future. Any more than I can see mine or yours. There is nothing but fog, like the mists that often settle over these grounds. My Gift only works when I benefit others, not myself.”

“But in your heart,” she pressed in a low voice, her eyes desperate for assurance. “You said Hillel…that she was a hetaera. Do you think he resisted her?”

Lia’s heart twisted with pain. “I do not know. I cannot think on it without getting ill. They were to be married at Billerbeck. He believes I am dead. I had hoped to find him here at Muirwood.” She clenched her jaw and stifled her feelings. “We can hope, Ciana. That is all that we can do for him now.”

Tears trickled down Marciana’s cheeks. She nodded and Kieran put his arm around her shoulder, hugging her. She leaned against him, trying to master her feelings.

“Goodbye, Lia,” she whispered. “Would we were sisters. Thank you for saving me from Dieyre. Thank you for saving me from what you suffered at Dochte Abbey.” She put her hand on Lia’s arm. “I would not have been as strong as you.”

They hugged each other one last time and then Lia watched the group begin the slow walk towards the ring of oaks surrounding the grounds and then towards the Bearden Muir. The lake that had surrounded the Abbey had long since receded. The Abbey defenses were broken.

As she watched them go, she turned her gaze to the Tor and the dark duty that awaited her there.

* * *

As Lia climbed the Tor, her heart grew more and more heavy as she neared the charred stumps of the twin maypoles at the peak. Her stomach clenched with agony at seeing the blackened shells, the stick-like figures still chained there. The last time she had climbed the Tor, she was with Colvin on a stormy day hunting Seth’s footprints with the Cruciger orb. The wind whipped about her, moaning softly against her ears.

The evidence of death lay ahead of her, but the memories of hearing what had happened tortured her soul.

She had woven together the threads of story in strands from everyone in the kitchen while the storm had raged over the Hundred. Marciana and Kieran had been escorted from Comoros but ambushed. Since Lia had Gifted him, his recovery had been startlingly dramatic. As Dieyre’s men attacked and began killing the knights who escsorted them, he had fended the attackers off, killing them all and stealing their tunics and horses to disguise their movements as they rode back to Muirwood. Upon reaching the Abbey, they had hidden as wretcheds, wearing simple clothes and helping with simple tasks to aid in their disguise. Edmon had finally summoned the courage to face the maston test and when he learned it was more about oaths and promises than knowledge learned from tomes, he had encouraged Sowe to face it as well. It was Marciana’s wish that she be adopted into her Family when she learned of Colvin’s promise. The Aldermaston permitted it, knowing they were approaching the end of his authority at the Abbey.

The day after they had passed it, the Aldermaston of Augustin arrived, claiming to be the new Aldermaston. He presented his charge and then summarily dismissed Demont and his mastons from the Abbey under his new authority. With the new Aldermaston against him, Demont had left and they had heard he was murdered by poison as he journeyed to Comoros to take control of the city and prepare for an invasion.

With a new Aldermaston, the Queen Dowager was finally released from her captivity and she summoned her vassals to Muirwood to bring her safely away. But the entourage did not leave immediately as they had promised. Each day brought another delay. Her power and influence continued to grow, much to the surprise of the new Aldermaston who found her to be intractable and unwilling to simply walk away. He also began to discover that the wealth he had suspected to exist at Muirwood was as elusive as the wind. There was no treasury, no hoarded funds supporting Demont’s army. He realized at the end that he had given up a wealthier Abbey for a lesser one.

On Twelfth Night, both Aldermastons were executed on the Tor. They were bound to maypoles and forced to watch the Abbey below begin to burn. From what Lia had heard, the Aldermaston of Augustin had howled and wept and begged for his life. The true Aldermaston had silently faced his death without a word after Seth, his hunter, had been stabbed by soldiers while trying to defend his master. His body had been left on the lawn, but it had vanished with the storm.

Lia looked up at the charred remains of the Aldermaston. She knelt before the post, knelt in the soaked ashes, and she sobbed. She had lost two fathers in her life and she was not sure which hurt most – the one she had never met or known, or the one who had been prepared for her by her true father. In anguish, she had let the others leave for Pry-Ree, never able to tell them who she really was. Somewhere in the world was a tome, written by her father, sealed with a binding sigil. Until it was found, she would be forever silenced. Her true story would never be known. It was the same for the Aldermaston. He had died in disgrace, accused of horrid crimes he had never committed.

She spoke out loud, to herself but also to him. “If only I had come sooner, I could have saved you from your fate. Or you could have died and the Apse Veil would still be open. I am sorry for that. I did not know what was happening to you. I was mostly only aware of my own pain. I am sorry.”

The wind tugged at her hair. She cried softly.

“There were so many lies told about you. People always believe the worst, even when rumors might later be proved false. I know the truth and so do a handful of others. It seemed sometimes that you never cared what others thought about you. But so many will never know who you truly were. They will never know you as I knew you.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I miss you, Aldermaston. I miss your counsel and your advice. You believed in me. I always felt that from you. I remember when you sent Jon Hunter to rescue me from the Bearden Muir. He told me that I was welcome back. That you said I could come back home. Do you know how much that meant to me? How much your trust meant to me?” She hugged herself, shivering with her emotions. “I wish I had told you how much I depended on you. How much I learned from you. How sorry I was for all the rude things I said. My disobedience and childishness. You were so patient with me. I see now that I was not just a wretched to you. Thank you, Aldermaston. I am grateful I was sent to your care. You helped to mold my faith. I could not have done what I did at Dochte Abbey without you.”

She knelt there until her knees cramped and ached and her tears finally exhausted. She breathed deeply and swallowed the hiccups that threatened her.

“I will carry a mark on my heart for the rest of my life. I will never forget your words and teachings. And I will never forget what you suffered because of me.”

In the stillness that followed the storm, she felt something light graze the back of her head. It was feather-light. She opened her eyes and turned around, but there was nothing behind her. It had felt like a…hand?

She blinked in the stillness and closed her eyes again.

“Are you with me, Aldermaston?” she whispered.

The faint pressure came on her head again. Instead of looking backwards again, she closed her eyes and opened her mind to her thoughts. The Gift of Seering opened up to her again and she saw the Aldermaston, in her mind. He was crossing the Cider Orchard painfully, each step an agony to him. The branches lashed at him, but he walked firmly ahead, his arm cradling something that glinted gold. Then he was moving through the forbidden part of the grounds, his expression writhing in pain. She watched as he made it to the floating stone beyond Maderos’ lair. He clambered down upon the rock, almost losing his balance and plunging to his death. He knelt, exhausted, on the stone, his body trembling with the exertion. He bowed his head and then the floating rock began to move, easing downwards to the base of the hill that was still submerged beneath the waters of the lake. With a mighty heave, he shoved a tome of aurichalcum off the boulder and watched it splash in the waters. It sank instantly, coming to rest amidst the stone ossuaries that she used to play in as a child.

The vision faded.

Lia opened her eyes. “Thank you, Aldermaston. Thank you for showing me where your tome lies.”

* * *

She buried the Aldermaston’s bones in an ossuary near Maderos’ lair. The tome was where she had seen and had not been difficult to see hidden within the crevices. As she knelt before the sealed box, she raised her arm in the maston sign.

Her voice was thick with emotion, but grew stronger as she spoke. “By Idumea’s hand, I do not know all the words. I am a young maston still. But I kneel and through the Medium dedicate this ground as the final resting place of Gideon Penman, the Aldermaston of Muirwood Abbey. By the Medium I invoke this, that when the time of his reviving has come, at some future dawn, he may be restored, every whit. May all who love truth always remember this final spot that others may remember what he did for us. That we may remember him through our words. Make it thus so.”

As she crossed the Cider Orchard to return to the kitchen, she heard the snort and whicker of a horse. The trees were skeletal, but there were enough to shield the source of the sound. She stopped, listening carefully and trying to discern the location of the sound. It was coming from ahead, some distance ahead. She could hear the distant mumble of a voice and her heart began to hammer in her chest with longing. Carefully, she set down the Aldermaston’s tome and began to stalk forward, weaving through the trees carefully but quickly. Her blood throbbed in her ears. It was approaching noontide, but the day was overcast, veiling the sun.